Such a small movement. Such a tiny piece of metal. My whole body is lighter.
The space beside me warms, and I shiver. He doesn’t need to speak. My body recognizes him.
I turn, and Stark has crouched down beside me. I throw myself into his arms, and he pulls me close. He crushes me so tightly that I end up in his lap, my face hidden in his neck and his pulse leaping against my lips.
Cratos has gone directly to Anassa’s side, bending down to wash her face with his tongue. “Stark, can Cratos tell—”
“She’s going to be okay,” Stark confirms. “The wound is serious, though. She needs rest and time to recover.”
I breathe out, another weight dropping from my shoulders.
His arms around me are an anchor. This isreal. I’m actually finally free of Killian for good.
Neither of us needs words. Whenever comes next… I’m free.
Tears trickle down my face. They drip from my chin onto Stark’s shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes tighter shut, blocking out everything but the press ofhim against me, his chest so warm and solid, his embrace—hislove—stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
“Meryn,” Noemi says in an uneven voice.
I pull away from Stark and look up at her. She’s smiling, but there’s a lingering pain in her eyes. When I hold my hand out to her, relief chases it away. I pull her to me and hold her, too, in the hopes that it’ll lend her some of the strength Stark just gave me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says with a sniff. She holds up between us the ring she pulled from Killian’s finger.
I accept it and hold it up in this brand-new sun. The opal glows so innocently. It shouldn’t be so beautiful. “You don’t need to apologize, Noemi. He controlled me, too, didn’t he? Nothing you did was your fault.”
Noemi gulps, tears filling her eyes, but eventually nods. “What are you going to do with the ring? With all of it?” she asks.
I close it in my fist tightly before shoving it into the bag that held the other Tears. Wearily, I step over to Killian’s body, retrieving the Tears he took from me from where they fell around him.
Shaking my head, I tell her, “No one should have the power of commanding worship. To be able to manipulate so many? Bend minds to your will? There’s nobody in the world who should have that power.”
“But the rest?” She lifts a hand to gesture at the rest of the gemstones.
Exhaustion overtakes me as I contemplate what needs to be done. “I have to get Lucien’s two Tears back to him in Astreona. And the others… there’s a part of me that wants to take the three we’ve discovered and destroy them or bury them somewhere they’ll never be found.”
Noemi is nodding along, but Stark’s expression is tight. Shadowed, even.
“You don’t agree?” I ask him.
“I agree with whatever you decide. You’re in charge.”
That answer sits sour in my stomach, but I don’t have time to draw him out from behind his walls. Killian’s war camp is coming back to life. Those caught in his magic’s tide are blinking back to themselves, staggering into the light, asking for answers.
As Stark helps me to my feet, I ask them the question even though I already know the answer. “Tormun?”
“He was under Killian’s control,” Stark replies. “But regardless, he wasn’t going to be subdued. Cratos and I did what needed to be done.”
So he’s dead, then. The Phylax pack is without an Alpha.
A rumbling noise upends Killian’s camp further. I would recognize this sound anywhere. Dozens of wolves riding together, paws pounding and riders’ minds raging with hope.
Bonded are riding down the hillsides from the direction of Blumenfall. Egith is at the head of their march, her shoulders back and her head high. I let out a small crow of victory and stumble forward.
They stand before us moments later, and I reach a hand up to her wolf, Sofos. “Anassa has been injured,” I say, though the words are unnecessary—Sofos will have already sensed it.
Egith swings down off her wolf’s back, and Sofos races to Anassa’s side.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. That you’re all safe,” I say to Egith, voice cracking with weariness.
